And side by side also with the happy girls were the sweethearts of dead sailors, and the widows of the shipwrecked fishers, quitting the chapel of the dead in their long mourning shawls and their smooth tiny _coiffes_; with eyes downward bent, noiselessly they passed through the midst of this clamouring life, like a sombre warning.

And close to all was the everlasting sea, the huge nurse and devourer of these vigorous generations, become fierce and agitated as if to take part in the fete.
Gaud had but a confused impression of all these things together.

Excited and merry, yet with her heart aching, she felt a sort of anguish seize her at the idea that this country had now become her own again.

On the market-place, where there were games and acrobats, she walked up and down with her friends, who named and pointed out to her from time to time the young men of Paimpol or Ploubazlanec.

A group of these "Icelanders" were standing before the singers of "_complaintes_," (songs of woe) with their backs turned towards them.